


I Only Call You When It's Half Past Five

by reddiebitch



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Jealous Richie Tozier, M/M, Richie Tozier Flirts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiebitch/pseuds/reddiebitch
Summary: Eddie and Richie agree to be fwb. Eddie finds himself falling for a very emotionally unavailable Richie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [@kaspbrak-eddie](http://www.kaspbrak-eddie.tumblr.com)

It was a Saturday night, and Eddie Kaspbrak had, for some reason, found himself at a bar he’d never been to. He normally just kept to the few gay bars there were in the bar district of his small college town, but tonight had been different. The group of girls he normally went out with, who loved the fruity drinks and the crawling dance floors of the gay bars had made a change of plans halfway through the night. One of them had made the executive--drunk--decision that they all needed to get laid, and that the needs of many were more important than the needs of the few. So here Eddie was, in the middle of a sea of drunk college kids, almost sober, not wanting to be there.

He pulled out his phone to check the time and noticed it was almost last call. He went to text one of the guys on his roster, needing to get the fuck out and hook up with someone, when some guy walked into him, spilling his drink and also knocking Eddie’s out of his hand. They both watched on with horror as the sticky liquid splashed all over the front of Eddie’s polo.

Eddie looked up at him slowly, seething with rage and trying to make it clear in his eyes. He narrowed his eyes almost to slits and made eye contact with the perpetrator, shooting daggers. He felt he had conveyed his feelings well when the guy took a step back, fumbling to adjust the oversized, impossibly thick glasses he wore and putting his hands up on either side of his head. “Oh my god, dude. I am so sorry, that was an accident. I’m... uh. I'm pretty drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Eddie yelled instinctively, before noticing the fear and hurt in this guy’s eyes, he was actually being sincere and Eddie could tell that he was nervous. “Nevermind. Sorry. It’s fine. I was about to go home anyway.” He said, making his way to the door. He began to push through the teeming mass of bodies that packed the small bar, pushing his way, slowly but surely, to the door. Just a few steps later he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, angling his face to look up at the guy who’d spilled his drink on him only thirty seconds ago. “What do you want?” He asked, furrowing his brows.

“I just... I...” He stammered, fixing his glasses again, even though they seemed unmoved from the last time he'd fixed them. “Um. I live like a block away from here... you could just clean off at my house? If you want. It’s cold outside... I don’t want you to have to walk to yours if it’s far... I mean I don’t know where you live but I just thought I’d offer because you’re really wet now and--” 

Eddie grabbed his hand, thinking he'd maybe avoided the need to run down his roster. _This one would do,_ he thought to himself, _this one would do just fine._ “Let’s go, idiot.” 

The boy dropped Eddie’s hand immediately, sneaking a look around them as he did so, but he moved to catch up with him so they could walk side by side as they exited the bar. “So I just live in that apartment building right over there.” He pointed at a large building that really was very close; Eddie’s was at least a ten-minute walk from the bars. 

A couple of minutes into their walk, the guy looked over at Eddie and noticed him shivering, his arms crossed over his chest. When his teeth started chattering audibly, he offered Eddie the jean jacket he had on.

“No.” Eddie kept walking, crossing his arms tighter around himself.

“Are you sure? You look really cold.”

“That thing smells like cigarette smoke. Besides, I don’t even know you. When’s the last time you washed that thing? It looks disgusting.” 

The guy shrugged and put his jacket on, smiling. “My name’s Richie. Now you know me. What’s yours?”

“Eddie.” He said, not looking up. They arrived at Richie’s building, where Eddie followed him up a flight of stairs and watched him unlock the front door to his apartment, number 3. Richie pushed the door open with his hip and leaned against it to hold it open, motioning for Eddie to go first. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy,” he said as Eddie crossed the threshold. That it was. The living room had plates and food trash scattered everywhere, and Eddie was sure the kitchen was just as bad. “My roommate and her boyfriend are out of town right now, he’s usually the one to pick up,” Richie said sheepishly, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Bathroom is over there. Dryer’s in there if you want to dry your shirt. I’m really sorry again, I feel bad.” He pointed to a little door off the living room as he spoke, looking at Eddie through thick, dark eyelashes, only visible at this distance because they were blown up behind the lenses of his glasses. He smirked sheepishly once he finished talking, still rubbing at his neck with the other hand. 

“Thanks.” Eddie made his way into the bathroom. He stripped off his shirt and rinsed it in the sink, before turning around to throw it in the dryer behind him. He spun back around and put his hands on the counter in front of the mirror, looking at himself closely. He quickly splashed some water on his face and patted it dry with a towel he was  _sure_  hadn’t been washed in at least a month. He reached to his side, pulled the door open, and returned to the living room. 

He walked out with arms crossed over his bare chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious, although he wasn’t sure why. He knew he had a great body, he worked out frequently to get out all of his pent-up energy, and he had been told how hot he was by the numerous guys he was currently talking to or hooking up with.

Once in the living room, he found Richie sitting on the sofa and snacking on a piece of pizza he’d pulled from a box sitting on the coffee table. He stood up immediately when he heard Eddie walk in and looked him up and down, noticing his uncomfortable demeanor.

“Be right back.” He said around a mouthful of pizza, clapping his hands together to get the crumbs off as he ran through a door by the bathroom. He returned a few moments later with a t-shirt in his hands. “This is clean I promise, I just did laundry yesterday.” 

Eddie begrudgingly grabbed the t-shirt and put it on. It smelled vaguely like cigarettes, same as the jacket, but it also smelled like laundry detergent. It was a nice smell. After pulling it over his head, he made for the door. “I guess I’ll go home now, thanks for letting me dry off.” 

He noticed Richie’s face fall at his words. “Wait!” He said quickly. “Um... just stay until your shirt is dry at least! Want a drink?” 

Eddie debated his options. He could brave the ten-minute walk back to his place in the twenty-degree weather and spend the night with his cat in his own apartment, or he could stay with this weirdly striking stranger, and figure out what his deal was. Eddie shrugged. “What do you have?”

Richie’s face broke out into a smile, turning to walk into the kitchen, intending for Eddie to follow. “We don’t have many mixers for hard alcohol, but we have vodka, gin, whiskey...” Richie trailed off, turning to look at him and pushing his glasses up. 

“Beer?” Eddie asked. Richie nodded and grabbed two beers out of the fridge, handing one to Eddie. They made their way back into the living room and sat down on the sofa facing each other; Eddie pulled his legs up in front of him to sit criss-cross. 

“I know you right? We’ve had classes together.” Richie said once they were seated.

Eddie nodded. “Probably. All my classes are lectures, I’ve had classes with everyone. What’s your major?” 

“Engineering,” Richie said, sipping casually on his beer.

“Ah. I’m premed. So we had all those prereqs and math classes and stuff together the last two years. That’s why I haven’t seen you much this year.”

“Junior year is a bitch,” Richie laughed softly. 

They bantered back and forth about their classes and the different professors they’d had together, mostly complaining about how much they all sucked. Once Eddie’s shirt was dry, Richie jumped up and grabbed it, bringing it back for him to put on.

“So you’re gay, right?” he asked as Eddie changed out of Richie’s shirt and back into his own.

“I mean yeah? I guess everyone here pretty much knows, I don’t try to hide it. Why? Are you not? I thought you’d invited me over because...” 

“No... I just... I don’t know.” Richie said nervously. “I’ve always thought I was straight... until... Until I saw you tonight. I’d never really  _looked_ at you until tonight.” Eddie watched Richie’s eyes rake up and down his body, subtlety impossible behind the thick lenses he wore over his crystal blue eyes.  

Eddie rolled his eyes, moving to stand up. “I’m not here for you to fucking make fun of me and then beat the shit out of me. I'll just go.”

Richie rose with him, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him from walking away. “Wait. I’m serious.” Eddie turned around, looking into Richie’s huge eyes, seeing that he was pleading. “I have no idea what I’m doing but I think I like you, Eddie. And I know I’m a little drunk but when you’re drunk you tell the truth? Right?” 

Eddie sighed. “Okay. That's great for you. But I’m not closeted. I’m happily out and I’m not here to be some straight guy’s ‘I’ve experimented before’ story. Sorry.” Eddie dipped his shoulder down to get out of Richie’s hold before turning toward the door. 

“Wait! Please! Maybe we can at least be friends?”

“Fine.  _Friends.”_ Eddie agreed. He left that night holding a piece of paper with a phone number written on it that he never intended on using.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Eddie woke up and turned on his side, seeing the crumpled up piece of paper with Richie’s phone number scrawled on it sitting on his bedside table in the same exact spot where he’d dropped it the night before. He laid his head back on the pillow, thinking it over for a few minutes, then hesitantly opened a new contact card and plugged the number into his phone.

He opted to go for a run that morning, feeling the need to sweat out all of the alcohol he’d consumed the night before. When he got back, he took a quick shower before heading to the library to work on the homework he’d been putting off all weekend. 

He walked in, moving to sit at his usual table--he was there almost every day--but stopped short when he saw a familiar face hunched over a notebook, scrawling numbers and punching the buttons on his calculator wildly. He almost tripped over his shoes when he realized that it was Richie, he hadn’t been expecting to see him ever again, let alone the very next day, sitting at  _his_ table in the library. Richie looked up at the sound, pushing his glasses up on his nose from where they’d fallen due to him leaning over his work. His eyes tracked up Eddie’s body before finding his face, and his own broke out into a huge crooked smile. He pulled his bulky, over-the-ear headphones off, resting them around his neck, and waved at Eddie. “Eds!” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, but made his way over, standing opposite him, hands resting on the back of the chair Richie’s backpack was sitting in. Before Eddie could say anything, Richie piped up again. “Come here often?” He asked with a wink. 

“Yes, actually. And you’re in my spot.” Eddie raised an eyebrow at Richie, almost challenging him. 

“Oh! Yeah, I normally sit over there,” He pointed to a set of tables on the opposite end of the room that had been commandeered by a ridiculously large group of people; they had also amassed an arsenal of whiteboards on which they'd managed to draw out the entire human endocrine system. “But..." He continued, Obviously I’ve had my spot stolen as well.” He started shifting his books around, consolidating them from where they were strewn across the entire surface of the table to just a few small stacks. “You can still sit here! Let me make room. Sorry, I’m a spreader.” He smiled up at Eddie through thick lashes, his eyes a dark sapphire, and flashed him a mischievous smile. 

Eddie rolled his eyes again, but swung his backpack over his shoulder and dropped it unceremoniously on the table. “Fine. But only because it’s weirdly full today and this is the only spot that’s ever quiet.” Richie nodded and put his headphones back on, pointing at them as he did so and giving Eddie a thumbs up. He returned to his work quietly with less of a fight than Eddie had been expecting. Slightly disappointed but stressed enough to not care, Eddie pulled his laptop out of his backpack to begin his assignment. 

They studied quietly like that for almost four hours, interrupted only by the occasional glance when one sensed that the other wasn’t looking. Richie spent any time he wasn’t writing tapping his pencil on the table, but for some reason, for the first time in his life, it didn’t bother Eddie. He occasionally peeked over the top of his laptop to watch Richie think, a routine which consisted of him breaking from his work to run his fingers through his hair for a few minutes before returning to scrawling on the paper in front of him or frantically flipping through the two textbooks he had open on the table.

 _Fuck me._ Eddie thought to himself approximately two hours into their study session--he was getting absolutely nothing done. He shook his head in attempt to clear it and slouched down in his seat behind the screen of his computer so he would have to focus. This surprisingly helped for a while, and gave him about two hours of actual interrupted study time, free from the distraction that was Richie.

Around hour four, Eddie hit a wall with the chemistry homework he was trying and failing to understand, and sighed out loud without realizing. Richie looked up questioningly, and Eddie closed his laptop halfway to look back. “You’re engineering, right? So you’re better at math than me?” 

Richie just shrugged and adjusted his glasses. “What is it?”

Eddie squinted back at the homework problem on his computer screen. “It’s some sort of calc, but I don’t remember it. It’s like an expansion or something?” 

Richie’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Gimme your laptop.” Eddie turned the computer around so Richie could read the problem, and a few seconds later he ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook to scrawl the answer to the problem down, explaining each step. 

“Oh my god, thank you. You just saved my life, seriously. I’ve been trying to figure that out for like a half hour.” Eddie said, taking the paper back from Richie to copy it down into his own notebook.

Richie simply flashed him another smile and reached to put his headphones back on. He hesitated, then he pulled his fingers away from the bulky, black headphones. He looked back at Eddie, who was now carefully writing the problem down. “You never texted.”

Eddie looked up, “Huh? Oh. Yeah. I...” 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

Eddie sighed, closing his computer. “It’s just... I don’t know, Richie. I want to. But you’re obviously going through some shit. I just have sex for fun. I don’t do relationships or attachment or anything."

Richie nodded. “That’s fine. I just thought we could have some fun.” He started to slowly close his books and pack up his things. 

“You leaving? I didn’t mean to piss you off or anything...” 

Richie smiled softly as he shoved his things back into his backpack. “I’ve been done for like an hour. I’ve just been making up math problems to see if I could do them because I didn’t really want to leave, but I’m getting bored.”

“Oh. Okay.” Eddie looked back down to continue writing out the work on the problem Richie had shown him. “Wait... you were doing what? You’re so fucking weird.”

Richie shrugged and offered a wave over his shoulder. “Bye, Eds. See ya around.” Eddie watched him leave until he was out of sight, then returned to his work, eyes poring over Richie’s messy handwriting as he continued to make sense of the work in front of him.

* * *

When Eddie got his homework back on Thursday, he tore through it quickly to see if he’d gotten any points taken off. There weren’t many notes in it at all until the problem Richie did, which contained a paragraph in red pen at the bottom.  _Fuck._ Eddie though to himself.  _Why did I trust him, he’s such an idiot._  His eyes widened when he read the note at the bottom of the page:

“This is quite impressive, Mr. Kaspbrak. I didn’t even think to do the problem this way, it’s much more efficient than what I had done. I showed it to my colleagues and they also thought it was novel. Good job.”

Eddie could feel himself blushing while reading the note. Throughout the rest of the class period, he was absolutely terrified that his professor was going to ask him how he thought of the math for the problem. While he understood it, he didn’t technically come up with the work himself. When the end of class rolled around, Eddie packed up his things and raced out before anyone else had even stood up. Once he got home, he snapped a picture of the page and sent it to Richie, along with “Thanks.”

**Idiot: He finally makes contact!**

**Idiot: Also, what can I say. I’m a genius ;)**

_Eds: Shut the fuck up._

**Idiot: :)**

Eddie wasn't really sure what to say back, so he left it at that. The rest of that night he couldn’t get Richie off of his mind, and as he slept that night, he dreamt of him. 

* * *

The next morning, Eddie awoke to a distantly familiar dampness between his legs. “Oh god. Oh my fucking god. What the fuck.” He whispered to himself as he got up and peeled his boxers off, making a beeline for the shower. He hadn’t had a wet dream in at least a couple of years, and when he was a teenager they’d been about people like Harry Styles or Nick Jonas--never about real people. He shuddered at the thought as he cleaned himself furiously in the hot water. 

He pushed the dream out of his brain and tried to forget about it all day, and that evening he found himself at a friend’s apartment. The group he normally went out with were ready to rage, as they always were on Friday nights. They sat around drinking some horrific punch one of them had made, and Eddie laughed while he watched a few of them take Jell-O shots. “Are you guys like, seventeen?” He teased, which provoked one of them to throw a pillow at him, almost knocking his drink over. He looked up with dark eyes. “Not again, bitch! I don’t need a repeat of last weekend.” 

She sat down on the coffee table in front of where he was seated on the sofa, leaning forward to get into his space. “Yeah but that guy was  _cuuuute_  though.” 

He pinched her nose, “Yeah and you’re  _druuunk,_  Cassie.” She giggled and watched him stand up to make his way into the kitchen for another drink. Her eyes followed him as he left, and she jumped onto the couch to steal his seat. 

Once alone in the kitchen, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messages screen. Feeling slightly buzzed, he impulsively sent a text.

_Eds: Hi_

He shoved his phone back in his pocket after switching it to silent. He’d look at it later, it wasn't like he’d reply to Richie right away anyway. About an hour later when they started getting ready to head out around 11:00, he slipped his phone halfway out of his pocket to check it. The screen was empty. His stomach dropped slightly as he slid it back into his pocket, annoyed. He was normally the one to leave people hanging for hours on end.

He decided to forget it and just have fun with his friends. Besides, he had a laundry list of other guys hung up on his dick that he could text to come over later. 

When the bartender called last call after what had seemed like only a half hour, Eddie pulled out his phone to check the time. It was in fact almost 2:00. Just as he was going to put the phone back in his pocket, the screen lit up. 

**Idiot: Hey there.**

Eddie rolled his eyes. What the fuck was this angle? He had come to the decision to not text back at all until his phone buzzed in his hand three more times.

**Idiot: Wyd**

**Idiot: Did you go out tonight?**

**Idiot: You should come over**

One of his more sober friends was looking for him so she could round everyone up to leave, and she found him glaring at his phone. “Eddie? What is it?” She asked, brushing her long hair behind her ear and rounding him to look over his shoulder at his phone screen. She read the texts quickly and looked up at him, eyes kind but giggling at him. “You always do this to guys. You’ve never had anyone ballsy enough to do it to you.” She threw her head back laughing. “The fuckboy becomes the... fuck... boyed? Oh I’m too drunk to think of a joke. It’s still funny.” She smiled at him again before grabbing his hand and leading him to the group of girls she’d assembled. They all started to make their way back to one of their houses before Eddie pulled the same girl from before, the one with the long hair, back behind the rest of the group. 

“Emma. I know I’m kinda drunk. But I wanna go.” 

She looked over at him, pushing her hair behind her ear again. “Go then!” 

He bit his lip, thinking as they walked. He continued walking with the group, Richie’s apartment was on the way to Cassie’s house so he could just dip out there if Richie texted back. If not, Cassie was drunk and ordering pizza with her parents’ credit card. He sighed and typed back.

_Eds: When_

The typing bubble popped up immediately.

**Idiot: Now! Or whenever**

Eddie showed the screen to Emma again, who nodded at him. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he sent back:

_Eds: K I just left the bars I’ll be there in a second._

He looked at Emma nervously. “Why are you freaking out? You do this shit all the time, Eddie!” 

He whispered back urgently, “I don’t fucking know.” Emma gave him a half shrug. “I’m gonna turn here, his apartment is right over there.” Eddie pointed at the familiar brick building.

She gave him a small wave. “I’ll cover for you! Have fun! Use protection!”

He flipped her off but smiled as he turned around to jog the half block to Richie’s door.


	3. Chapter 3

When he arrived at Richie’s apartment, Eddie made his way up the stairs slowly, trying to collect his thoughts. The alcohol he’d had that night had mostly worn off, just leaving him feeling slightly impulsive and more talkative than normal. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, knocking softly on Richie’s door.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Richie that answered the door, but a kind looking girl with red hair cut into a short bob. “Oh hi!” She giggled, stepping back to let him through the door, revealing a boy sitting on the couch who was also not Richie. “We thought you were the pizza guy, sorry. You’re here for Rich, I’m guessing?” Eddie nodded, face blushing furiously. “Ah okay. He’s in his room.” She pointed to the same door off the living room that Richie had gone into to find Eddie a shirt the last time he’d been there. He nodded silently and offered a small smile before walking over to the door and knocking on it--quieter than he’d knocked on the front door. The girl leaned backwards over the couch, “I think he’s got headphones on, you can probably just go in there I don’t think he’ll care. I’m Beverly by the way, this is my boyfriend Ben. Sorry, I suck at introductions.” 

“Um... I’m Eddie. And thanks.” He turned back toward the door, knocking louder this time as he opened the door. The room was dark, lit only by a small, dim lamp on Richie’s bedside table and the moon outside his window. Richie was sitting on the floor by the window, the same headphones he had on in the library draped over his head, pressing on his curls so they stuck out wildly in every direction. He turned around at the commotion and smiled at Eddie, motioning for him to come in as he slipped the headphones off his ears. “Hi. I’m glad you came. Want some?” Eddie looked down to see Richie offering him a joint that was about a quarter of the way burned, his eyes already half-lidded. 

Eddie shrugged and plopped down on the floor next to him. He took the joint from Richie’s long, slender fingers and took a hit, blowing the smoke out the window and handing it back to Richie. They passed the joint back and forth until it was gone. Eddie watched as Richie laid down on his back on the floor and followed suit, already feeling relaxed from the weed. 

Richie rolled onto his side, bending his arm and propping his head on his hand to look at Eddie on the floor, arms folded over his stomach, breathing quietly and steadily with his eyes closed. “You change your mind then? Is that why you came over?” 

Eddie looked almost as if he could have been asleep until his mouth stirred, Richie could tell he was trying to suppress a smile.

“You’re unrelenting.” Eddie said with a small smirk as he propped himself up on his elbows. 

“I have been told I’m persistent. It’s a good quality.” Richie spoke softly, Eddie could tell that Richie was a little more high than he was. They laid there talking for hours about nothing and everything, conversation dominated by Richie who got extremely talkative when high, apparently. Eddie was content to simply listen, Richie’s voice was more gravelly than usual from the smoke. It sounded nice. 

“So why do you want this, Richie.” Eddie asked after a while, the question had been eating away at him all week. They had, at some point, ended up in Richie’s bed--after the high kicked in, the cold hardwood floor had gotten to be too uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, Eds. I don’t get it. But you do things to me.” Richie was curled up towards Eddie on his side, head resting on his bent arm like a pillow. Eddie was laying on his back. He rolled over to face Richie, looking into his dark eyes. Richie had taken his glasses off and Eddie couldn’t help but notice how  _beautiful_ he looked without them obscuring half his face, making his eyes look ridiculous. He could see all of the freckles across Richie’s nose that he’d never noticed before, and holy  _shit_ had his cheekbones always looked like that? “Enjoying the view?” Richie asked suggestively. Eddie let out a snort and glared back at him. “Oh. No, I’m genuinely asking, I can’t see your face.” 

“Oh. Okay. Um... a little. I guess.” 

Richie reached a hand out to brush Eddie’s cheek, bringing his fingers to rest against his jawline. He pulled at Eddie’s face to close the distance between them and when they were centimeters apart, breathing the same air, Richie whispered, “Can I kiss you? Please?”

Eddie couldn’t help it. He leaned forward the last few inches, letting his lips softly meet Richie’s. Their lips moved together in concert, the heightened sense of feeling from the drugs making it that much better. Eddie gasped a breath in as he felt Richie’s tongue graze against his bottom lip, opening his lips to allow it entrance. Eddie began to feel heat pooling in his stomach, and it was almost too much stimulation for him. Richie must have felt the same, as he rolled over on top of Eddie, resting on his bent legs with his arms thrown above Eddie’s head, pulling at his hair. Eddie felt Richie rut his hips down against his, and broke their lips. It was too much.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Richie said, slightly breathless, staring down at Eddie with unfocused eyes--whether from the weed or from his lack of eyesight, Eddie couldn’t tell.

“M’okay. I don’t like having sex when I’m high. It’s too much.”

Richie smiled at him and nodded. “That’s fine.” He plopped back down onto the bed, resuming his original position. “We can just keep talking.” 

After another hour or so of talking, they could both feel themselves drifting off, Eddie’s eyelids too heavy to do anything besides let sleep crash over him. Richie fell asleep seconds later. 

* * *

 

Eddie fluttered his eyes open, light streaming in the window, casting weird, lined shadows all over the floor and part of the bed. Not his bed. Not his floor. Not his window.  _Am I still at Richie’s?_ That was when he heard soft, even breathing next to him and reluctantly turned over to confirm his suspicions. He’d fucking spent the night. He  _didn’t_ spend the night. Ever. Eyes darting around the room nervously, he noticed on the clock that is was just past 8am. Richie seemed to be in very deep sleep, laying on his back with one arm folded over his stomach and the other one hanging off the edge of the bed. Eddie carefully pulled his legs out from under the covers, not wanting to stir Richie. He successfully climbed out of the bed--it was an excruciating process, moving inch by inch. He grabbed his shoes, phone, and keys from where he’d left them on the floor the night before. 

He snuck out of Richie’s room and thanked every god in existence that neither Richie’s roommate nor her boyfriend were in the living room. He slipped his Keds back on and flew out of the apartment and down the stairs. 

Once outside, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to text Emma to tell her he was alive. He held the phone up, but it wouldn’t turn on.  _Goddamn it._ He thought to himself, picking up into a slight jog. His apartment was a few blocks away from Richie’s, so it should have been around a ten minute walk. Eddie made it in a little over four minutes.

Once he plugged his phone in, he dropped onto his bed and immediately fell back asleep, shoes still on. 


End file.
